


A Case of Identity

by Shelling4869Ford



Category: Sherlock (TV), 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Crossover, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-10 06:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shelling4869Ford/pseuds/Shelling4869Ford
Summary: "How can you not know why some random child is sleeping in my chair!" John burst out, arms crossed in front of his chest. His best friend just looked at him, his face impassive like he'd just been asked what the weather was, before he answered him with a shrug. "'Cause I brought him here."





	1. The Case Of The Missing Identity

****

 

**The Case Of The Missing Identity**

Darkness filled the dusty room, only marred by streaks of the dull street lighting right outside. The light passed the windows and the heavy curtains, illuminating some papers scattered across the unkempt table riddled with other chemical equipment and abandoned glasses that reflected the light that fell on them. The fire place was empty, a lonely violin rested mute beside it; while on the mantelpiece a knife was stabbed through a small stack of letters, clearly visible from the two seats in front of it.

Both of them filled.

One figure sleeping, while the other itched for another nicotine patch, a small red bowtie on his lap.

His fingertips rested against each other while his stare was fixed on the figure before him. His mind tried to find a sense to the madness, but his brain refused to give him any plausible answer, which gave him a rush of thrill and irritation all at once.

Bluish grey eyes studied all the evidence it could drag out of the sleeping figure reposing on the opposite couch, and yet it seemed to be all wrong.

He snorted.

That could not be right.

But he wasn't wrong.

Not _him_.

The faint sound of a closing door downstairs pulled him back from his thoughts for a second. He calculated the exact time it would take for the owner of the familiar tread to come up the stairs and walk through the door, while his eyes were still fixed on the seat across him.

The door groaned in its frame a flash of light danced before his eyes until they adjusted to the electric light, which had been turned much too suddenly.

The man by the door blinked for a second as he processed the scene before him. The other could already see the frown forming on his face; the man's raised eyebrows deepening the already existing wrinkles on his forehead.

He stepped further into the room, flexing his hands and pursing his lips.

"What's this?"

The detective stared especially hard his object of scrutiny, hunching his shoulders. He still didn't look up.

"…I don't know."

"Sherlock!"

He sighed, straightening himself in his chair, as he grabbed the bowtie that lay on his lap for so long. He looked at his friend for a second, then went back to the red bowtie. He groaned in frustration, rubbing his temple and didn't even try to check the anger in his voice.

"I told you, John. I. don't. know."

The doctor could feel his eye twitching at that oh-so-helpful answer, before his gaze went back to the little boy slumped in his chair - why even his chair? Wouldn't the couch be better for a nap?

Whatever.

'Focus, John.' He tried to center his attention on the more important problem here. John had had a tiring day at work and he wasn't feeling too patient when he entered. Sherlock was not helping his sour mood. He could feel his patience steadily wane away.

The fact that he felt like he _knew_ this child but couldn't quite remember how wasn't helping him either.

" _How_ can _you_ not know why some random child is sleeping in my chair?!" He burst out, arms crossed in front of his chest. His best friend just looked at him, his face impassive like he'd just been asked what the weather was, before he answered him with a shrug.

"'Cause I brought him here."

"You _**what**_?! God, Sherlock what have you done to him?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes, pushing himself up from his chair to continue their little…argument at a more comfortable position. Besides, he could see the pulsing artery at his friend's neck, prominent enough to count his heart rate; and knew he was seconds away from a long tirade about 'manners' and whatnot.

'94 per minute. Oh, come on John, you can do better.'

He shook his head, turning around so that his back faced John while he laid the bowtie on his desk, when he answered drily, "Nothing, John."

Well, Watson didn't buy that for a second.

"And why are you staring at him like that?" John took a deep breath. This was growing ridiculous. They were both being childish now.

The detective turned around, annoyed at how _dull_ John was being.

"Geez, John is it your tiny bubble brain or have you completely lost the ability to _observe_? I'm not suddenly into little boys even if some crazy fans of your 'blog' might come up with that theory." The doctor stared at the sudden outburst of his friend. It was not like he was lying…fans tend to be…creepy or bizarre sometimes. But beside the inane rudeness of it all, he could see his friend's growing frustration on this matter that (probably, no, hopefully) brought the boy here. Sherlock shook his head, holding his chin in his hands staring down at the little boy while his answer turned to a distant murmur.

"I just told you. I don't know."

John brushed a hand over his face with a sigh, knowing the look on his friend's face. He would not speak to him for the next few minutes, eyes still focused on the little boy. The doctor decided to do his part and went to examine the child in front of him. He knelt down with a grunt, his fingers searching over child's neck in search of a pulse. He let out a relieved breath when he found it was calm and steady. The little boy seemed to be in deep sleep, not at all disturbed by their argument.

While his fingers still rested on his neck, his eyes moved back to his face, and frowned when he suddenly figured out how he knew the child. This was the strange child from the case they'd solved earlier today, even if he wasn't wearing his glasses right now. He remembered the boy's strange behavior; no wonder Sherlock was busy wracking his precious brain over it.

For one, the boy was a huge fan of Sherlock…and John's blog (finally, someone who knew that it was John who wrote it); on the other hand, that alone was strange as well, together with the fact that he was from Japan where his friend might be popular but not enough for a grade school child to notice him. Also, the boy didn't ask for an autograph, his big sister did so in his place. It was also the boy and his family, tourists from Japan, who had found the corpse. Even when the man with the mustache who accompanied the girl and this little boy had told him that he was a famous detective in Japan, it had actually been the little boy poking his nose everywhere, making strange suggestions in a childish voice before blushing all red when Sherlock had eyed him with a suspicious raised eyebrow.

He knew that his friend had been watching him and to be honest he was fascinated and disturbed at the same time that such a small child didn't seemed to be bothered by death, but was instead asking questions which oddly made sense and managed to somehow push the investigation in the right direction. In fact, it seemed like he and Sherlock were solving this case together, despite the fact that the boy had suddenly disappeared in the end. Probably because Sherlock's sharp gaze on him finally freaked him out.

John shook his head with a sigh, it seems like his friend wasn't done with his examination of the little boy yet. But kidnapping this child really was going too far, even for Sherlock Holmes.

"So, what have you discovered?"

"Huh?" He turned around at the sudden question of his friend.

"Don't you find it…strange?"

The army doctor's eyebrow rose at the tone of the question posed to him.

"What? That you somehow drugged the child to bring him here?" he replied sarcastically.

"What? No!" Sherlock raked his hand through his hair in annoyance, obviously not in the mood for biting jokes, and at how slow his friend was being.

"You see but you don't observe, John."

John rolled his eyes at this now familiar adage, but waited for Sherlock to bust out into deducing what he clearly had not seen.

"Okay, let's make things easier for you. Have a look at these." His friend pointed to the little pile of clothes, currently resting on his working desk. A pair of shoes, a red bowtie, a wristwatch, glasses, some little yellow stickers, a strange looking belt and two mobile phones. John frowned as he picked up the bowtie, which looked rather ordinary, if a little worn out, made for a child the boy's size. He could feel his friend's eyes on him, a smile forming on his lips when the doctor finally turned the red fabric around.

"What the-?" The blond blinked when he saw the minute device behind the fabric, something that looked like a miniature dial plate with different numbers like that of an old phone with a speaker resting in the middle of it. A catlike smile spread over Sherlock's lips when he saw the astonishment on his friend's face.

"Try it, John…play with it, try to figure out what it does."

John looked at him with a frown, before focused on the little bowtie, holding it a little closer to his face to have a better look at the mechanism.

"But how-?!" Apparently the device was close enough to his mouth to be activated, because the voice that vocalized his speech was a stranger's.

"Holy shit, what the hell?"

"Not exactly my thoughts but it also fits." Sherlock chuckled, a knowing smile in his eyes, when his friend turned to him, shock still plainly visible on his face.

"What about the rest?"

"Oh you mean these?" He pointed to the other accessories. "A pair of shoes which gave you the power to kick a hole through my head, probably used for those footballs which come out of this belt, and glasses which also function as a tracking device, most likely for these pretty little things." Sherlock smirked at the bamboozled expression on John's face, while he pointed to the yellow round bugs. It was priceless.

"And let's not forget, a wristwatch which contains darts that can put you into a nice deep sleep. And lastly, these two different phones." He murmured more to himself than John, before turning to his friend again, annoyance clouding his voice, "And if you'd examined him properly, you would have noticed the scar of a shot wound on his stomach, along with the fact that his right index finger shows signs of a callus, which indicates the frequent usage of pens, which is odd for a child of his age, but the ink patterns in the neat little notebook I've found match the pen he has, and also matches his knowledge of our language which you'd already pointed out during the case this morning. " Sherlock reminded him, shaking his head.

"Now you know why I took him with me…I needed answers, I needed to observe and deduce." The detective grumbled, pacing up and down in their living room, while John just stared at him in disbelief.

"What? But he's a child, Sherlock! What could all of this possibly mean?"

"Nothing."

The small voice immediately got their attention. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, as John followed his gaze to his friend before gliding to the dart watch lying on the table beside his glasses with an annoyed look.

Shinichi could feel his heart hammering in his chest, it had only taken him a second to know where he was. 221B, Baker Street. The place smelled like old paper, tea and chemicals from Holmes' kitchen lab. A part of him was freaking out that he could be in his idol's living room, but the cold, penetrating eyes of the great detective that scanned him for more clues quickly quelled that feeling. The little boy shivered, fingers clutching at the soft material of the chair, tensed. He knew that it had been a bad idea to involve himself in another case, right after the tennis disaster, but when he heard that the officer had called for Sherlock Holmes and he simply couldn't resist.

He knew that things started to go wrong when the detective focused more on him than the case and yet he gave in to the temptation to solve a case with his idol.

Well this is where that got him. Sherlock Holmes knocked him out with his own wristwatch and the look on the detective's face told him, that he had already figured out way too much.

Conan swallowed. He couldn't allow him to get involved with the Organization, great detective or not. He didn't want to endanger Holmes or Watson. It was time to utilize his mom's acting genes, but before he could even open his mouth Sherlock interrupted, like he had just read his mind and knew what he was planning to do.

"Don't even bother to try it, midget, we won't fall for your childish act again. Isn't that right, John?" He announced with a hard smirk. Shinichi bit his lips while John looked at his friend in confusion.

"Huh?"

An amused glint shone in the detective eyes, when he turned around to the coat stand by the door.

"But if you want to play around, that's fine by me. So, let's play a little game." Worry gripped John, when he saw the small child trapped underneath his friend's unnerving gaze, shrinking even more into the big seat. He frowned at the boy but was fast interrupted by his friend when he tried to intervene.

"Sherlock- I think you-"

He threw a grey coat from the stand at the boy, who nearly got swallowed by the fabric, before pushing it down on his lap, tousling his hair in that way.

"That jacket was left by a man here last week, who demanded my help. Tell me something about him." The detective ordered, plopping himself in the chair in front of the boy, tugging out his phone to type something; seemingly not paying attention to them anymore. John saw a spark of annoyance in the child's eyes, his fingers crawled into the coat as he stubbornly peeked over it at his friend.

"And what if I don't want to?" The boy looked up, half hidden by the overlarge jacket in his lap.

Sherlock merely shrugged, still focused on his mobile. His answer held a slight threatening tone though.

"Well… that would be a shame of course, since I would need to call your 'Ran-neechan' and tell her about your little toys here, since such weapons hardly belong in the hands of a little innocent child." John's mind easily connected the name with the high school girl, most probably the elder sister of the boy.

However, that seemed to do the trick.

"Fine." Shinichi grumbled. He could feel a slight touch of red on his cheeks but since Sherlock Holmes was busy with his mobile, he probably hadn't seen it. It didn't surprise him that the detective had found out so easily how to blackmail him, but it made him anxious nonetheless. He fingered the fabric in his lap, his eyes darted back to Sherlock for a second before he finally gave in, unfolding the jacket to have a better look at it, while he could feel John's eyes on him the entire time. Shinichi's mind automatically made deductions on the little hints he saw in the grey texture, but frowned when he finally answered.

"He' s tall… probably in his forties, but has quite a stressful life since his hair is turning grey already, he' s addicted to cigarettes, even so he tries to lower his consumption- without much success. He's meeting with different women, so probably just got divorced from his wife." His eyes stopped at the strange dent on the side of the jacket, before he looked up at Sherlock with a smirk.

"Nice try Mr. Holmes, but this isn't the coat from one of your clients; it's Inspector Lestrade's." A smile flashed over Sherlock's lips, before he groaned in fake frustration.

"Who is the most annoying client I've ever had."

John still stood beside them, watching something he knew he didn't completely understand. He had known that it was Lestrade's coat, since he forgot it here the past week, but how could the boy have guessed it!? Together with the details, which were in fact true. And how was it that Sherlock still didn't show interest in the boy but was instead playing with his damn phone when his gaze had been boring holes into the child just minutes ago?

"What!? But- How?!" The doctor stuttered in shock, he could feel his eye twitching slightly when Sherlock sighed, finally putting his mobile aside.

"Easily, John." His friend proclaimed in a calm voice, which only aggravated his temper that flared in the presence of extraordinary geniuses. He fished the thin grey coat from the boy who watched Sherlock's explanation in silence.

"You see some grey and black short hair on the lapel of the jacket, he must have a short haircut, somewhat military style judging by the length of the hair strands; shape and style of the jacket allows us to guess his age to be younger than what the silver strands might give away. There is a faint smell of tobacco- different sorts of it I might add, along with a bit of debris from the cigarettes in his right pocket- what also would allow to come to the conclusion that he's right handed by the way. You can see that the lining on the left upper arm is somehow discolored and a little yellow. We have a summer jacket here so he probably wears it over a tee shirt or something similar which allows his bare skin to touch the lining along with the nicotine patches we both favor, which would cause the change of color on the texture. The women part isn't hard to guess seeing slight shades of different makeup on each side of the collar, which probably got there when he kissed them good bye on each check so that their skin touched his jacket late at night. They could've been his mother and other relatives but the chances of that are very slim. The fact that he just got divorced is a little harder to observe. The coat isn't new, he wore it for a few years now, you can see that the sleeves had been decently rolled up at some point of time, so that the fabric gained the same color like the rest of the coat, faded by the sun, but just at the end you can see a straight streak of texture that didn't get in contact with the sun before. The accurate line tells us that it was ironed and done with care, while now, it's done rather messily by Lestrade himself. And since our little friend has just seen Lestrade this morning it would be easy to connect the dots seeing the slight dent his weapon had left on one side of it when he wore the coat over it." He smirked and faced the child once more.

"You might have overlooked a few details but since you're still in training that would be no wonder."

Sherlock was pleased to see the boy's cheeks flushing with pride, while John gaped at them like a fish, before he got enough hold on himself to vocalize his thoughts.

"Good god, Sherlock, please don't tell me that the boy is your long lost little brother," the detective rolled his eyes, before his gaze fixed itself on the child again.

"Oh, don't be silly, John." He muttered before a big smile spread over his lips. "He's much more than that."

Conan could feel the detective's eyes on him again, analyzing him with his cool glance, just as Shinichi had done to Lestrade's jacket. Shinichi bit his lips and stubbornly crossed his hands in front of his chest before he shot Sherlock a calculated look.

"I know what you're doing, but I must ask you to stop, Mr. Holmes."

The suddenly stern voice of the grade school kid caught their attention. John saw one eyebrow of his friend rise in interest while he folded his fingertips together.

"Why?"

The little boy swallowed, biting the inside of his cheeks and avoided their eyes, instead suddenly looking very interested in Sherlocks bony friend on the mantelpiece, before clear blue eyes fixed themselves on the detective again, suddenly seeming to be much older than they should be.

"Because you don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Sherlock frowned, looking down at the little boy in doubt.

"Is that so? What problem would a highly intelligent seven year old child who's secretly solving cases in another man's name and invented a second identity as a high school student cause?"

That was it.

The boy grew pale in a second, but his eyes never left his friend's. Meanwhile, John couldn't believe what he had just heard; there had been a few stories that had been told inside these walls which were hard to believe, but this?

This was preposterous.

"What?"

Sherlock eyed him from his seat, while John stood there seeming shell shocked. The boy didn't deny it and the haunted look in his eyes told him that he was treading through a sensitive area…but there was something else in the child's gaze that he couldn't read.

Awe, wonder, relief or weariness?

He couldn't tell.

He would have loved to continue the terse silence between them, simply studying the boy and figuring out the truth based on the boy's reactions to his assumptions, but he could sense John's growing irritation at being the only one not in the loop. Sherlock got up from his seat again, pointing to the child with a grandiose gesture.

"It is an honour to introduce you to the true famous Sleeping Detective of Tokyo. The boy is the brain behind the strange man who introduced himself as a detective today. He uses the watch to knock him out, using the bowtie to solve the case in the man's voice and name. I doubt he knows anything about it at all, given his attitude."

John's eyes drove back to the little boy, the child, the seven year old who was accused of being in the habit of solving crimes. But what his mind told him could be nothing but a joke was confirmed to be otherwise by the tension in the boy's frame and the way he flinched at Sherlock's 'introduction'.

Okay fine…a very highly intelligent child with the morbid hobby of running around crime scenes and solving murders, that he could live with; but then he knew there was more to it than what Sherlock told him just now.

"And…the false identity?"

John's question was answered, but not by his friend, but by another familiar voice from the doorframe.

"Isn't what he thinks it is."

Cold brown eyes observed the scene with an arrogant smile, hands resting on his umbrella as he shot Sherlock his signature pitying look.

"Again, dear brother, you're so close to the truth but still wrong."

"Mycroft?" But the government agent ignored Doctor Watson, and instead focused on the boy in his seat, like a hungry wolf looks at its prey.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop dangerously when the cold eyes of Sherlock's brother met the steel blue ones of the little boy. Sherlock watched them in silence for a while before he shot Mycroft a questioning look.

"What do you mean?"

Mycroft seemed to ignore his brother and took a seat on the edge of their sofa, his calculating gaze on the boy unwavering as he shook his head with a sigh, looking up at his little brother.

"I'm sure the false identity fits into your picture perfectly but what if I tell you that there's just a tiny detail you got wrong? It's just the other way around."

Sherlock looked at trembling poker face of the child and then back to his brother.

"Impossible!"

Mycroft just chuckled, shaking his head in disappointment.

"Oh, but wasn't it you who said 'when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however _improbable_ , must be the truth?' But I guess that you couldn't come to another conclusion without the right proof." The detective frowned at his elder brother.

"And what _proof_ do you have to such a spectacular deduction?"

Shinichi's face paled when Mycroft eyed him with a stern gaze. Sherlock could see the boy shrinking deeper into John's seat, his chest was heaving short and fast, even as he tried his best not to give anything away. Mycroft simply ignored his question and addressed the boy directly instead.

"I'm sure you forget it in the heat of the situation, _boy,_ but this town has maximum government surveillance in the whole world. We have our eyes _everywhere._ " The boy was white as a sheet now. It seems like he perfectly knew what was coming.

Conan flinched at Sherlock's sharp tone, when he finally lost his temper.

"Damn it, Mycroft, spill it already."

"I'll do more than that, little brother." He grinned a dangerous sharp smile.

"I'll show you."

The older Holmes brother got his phone and pulled up a video for John and Sherlock to see.

Shinichi could feel something disintegrate inside him. He had a very good idea what the two of them were looking at. A defeated sigh escaped his lips as his insides felt like they were on fire, with Mycroft Holmes' calculating gaze boring holes in his head. He swallowed, looking up at his role model who was studying the video with a blank expression while Doctor Watson's face showcased a plethora of expressions. Shinichi bit his lips, moving his eyes away from them, to their shadows on the floor.

'Well…there goes that secret. How angry would Haibara be when she finds out what happens?'

The video was a compilation of a few security cam feeds, which showed the child running down Westminster Bridge in the direction of the London Eye with a girl following close behind. It took him some time to lose her, hiding inside one of the bright red phone booths. Sherlock frowned, he could hear John humming in anticipation when nothing seemed to happen, the crowd moved on without the boy coming back out of the cell, but the camera was still focused on it.

"What-" John wanted to ask but he was hushed with a sharp hiss, eyes still focused on the bright screen of his brothers mobile when the door of the phone booth finally opened again.

Similar face, same hair, same phone.

But it was a high schooler who reappeared on the street.

"Shinichi Kudo."

Sherlock whispered, while John took a sharp breath, stumbling back from the phone to fix his gaze on the child in his seat. Mycroft eyed his brother lazily, demanding his phone back with a simple gesture of his hand, while he looked up at his younger sibling.

"I see you've done your homework."

"But- but-" John stuttered.

'What is that? A sci-fi movie?' He had studied medicine. He knew what he just saw _must_ be a trick, there was no way that something like that could be real. It should not be possible for the human body to- to _change_ like that.

"That's-"

"Impossible?" Mycroft suggested, before answering his own question with a shrug, eyes still fixed on the boy.

"We thought so too, but a simple check of fingerprints proved to us otherwise." The child flinched in his seat, not meeting anyone's eyes. Sherlocks lips thinned while his mind recalculated what he had figured out until now.

"It wasn't Conan who invented Shinichi Kudo but-"

"Just the other way around. I see you've finally come to the right conclusion." Mycroft finished his brother's thought when Sherlock finally found his voice again.

"But how?!"

Mycroft shot him a calculating glance before his eyes moved back to the boy.

"That is something I would like to know myself."

"It seems like Shinichi Kudo vanished just after he solved a case in a roller coaster, then just a few days later, Conan Edogawa suddenly showed up." Sherlock murmured, more to himself than everyone around but still got the attention of both men in the room…before a high but suddenly cold voice interrupted his thoughts.

"I told you to stop."

"Why?"

The question came quick as a shot from both the Holmes brothers at once.

But instead of caving in, their target held their gaze before pointedly turning away, stretching the silence between them into a dangerous atmosphere. Sherlock just watched him; he could see the tension behind the calm façade, while his brother's usually calm British temper seemed to run short.

"Boy,I believe you don't know what this is about."

Mycroft hissed, pushing himself up from the sofa to force the child to look up in an even higher angle. Shinichi raised one eyebrow, eyeing the man before him with a frown.

"Oh, but you're wrong on this count, Mr. Holmes. I know _exactly_ what this is about and sorry but I'm not sharing secrets with someone who'd rather feed his own brother to the sharks, than disobey his country. "

"Seems like someone else also did his homework; right, John?" Sherlock grinned, while his friend just stared at the little boy in awe. He remembered quite well that it took him a while before he was able to speak to Mycroft in that tone. And yet a child…high schooler…whatever, was talking to him like that, well he had to admit Sherlock was right, this was ridiculous.

Shinichi didn't look at the two of them, firmly keeping his gaze on Mycroft instead, choosing his words with care.

"I'm sure your government is…interested in my case, but I can promise you that whatever you do, it won't end well for any of the parties involved."

"Are you threatening me, _boy_!?" he growled, while Kudo shot him a sweet smile.

"No, I'm merely _warning_ you, Mr. Holmes."

Mycroft's lips thinned. He'd had enough. He was growing tired of this child's attitude.

'Play time is over.'

He brushed away non-existent lint from his sleeves, not meeting the boy's eyes when he spoke.

"I fear you don't have a say in this anymore." The government agent announced, his voice cutting through the tension in the room sharp as steel. "Seventeen or seven, you're still a child."

John shivered, it felt like the temperature had suddenly dropped under Mycroft's cold voice. The urge to step in front of the child, or rather – not child, made him move, before he stood protectively beside him. His body was frozen in place but ready to move at the same time, an old habit from his time in the army coming through.

Conan didn't shrink away this time, but Mycroft's next words made the air in the room shift, the doctor stepping in front of the child the moment Mr. Holmes finished his comment.

"Our facility is very interested in what happened to you and I'm sure we have _methods_ to figure it out on our own if you're not willing to speak."

Even unspoken, the threat seemed to get under their skin. Shinichi tried to ignore the shudder running down his spine, the hidden fears that sometimes haunted him at night, but he couldn't fully hide the anxiety in his eyes. He knew that Doctor Watson had seen it when the man took a protective step in front of him while Sherlock's sharp tone expressed his own anger.

"Mycroft!" he yelled in angry disbelief.

"What? Oh come on, brother mine! You can't tell me that your mind isn't considering the endless untapped potential here as well! Someone, nay, something – something that's able to change a high schooler back to a child." He told them, eyes wavering between his brother and the boy.

"Just think about what the world could do with that kind of technology."

"You mean what _you_ could do with it."

Sherlock's hissed accusation was followed by deep silence.

But the fact that Mycroft didn't deny it was foreboding enough for John to reevaluate his opinion on Mycroft.

"You know that what you're suggesting is a crime on all levels of humanity, right?" He muttered, while Mycroft merely shrugged.

Goosebumps rose on John's skin, when his friend's voice echoed through their living room so cold and empty like he had never heard it before.

"I never thought you to be so _cruel_."

Mycroft sighed again, shaking his head.

"Sherlock, again, your emotional background is against you. Just image what we could achieve with the boy."

"You'll do no such thing." The detective growled at his brother.

"Sherlock." He warned.

"Not on my watch."

Brown eyes met grey ones, neither of them giving in.

"I fear you don't have a say in this dear brother." The older one declared in a slight nasal tone, his mouth drawn together like he had a sour taste in his mouth.

"You know I do. You're going to delete this video, Mycroft."

"The Government-" He wanted to object, but Sherlock`s temper finally snapped, a threat hidden in his bellowing voice not unlike Mycroft's just minutes ago.

"We both know that _you_ are the damn Government."He laughed humorlessly, while his cold blue eyes fixed themselves on his brother, leaving Mycroft to grind his teeth.

"You won't lay a hand on him."

"Sherlock!"

Silence.

John could feel his heart racing in his chest, he glanced down at the boy who shot him a nervous and worried look before both focused back at the Holmes brothers.

The first sign of defeat was seen when Mycroft flared his nostrils as he took a deep breath, clenching his hands around the hilt of his umbrella.

"Fine… _fine._ " He grumbled, while Sherlock raised his head, waiting for his brother to continue.

"But you better see to it that your little _apprentice_ won't fall into the wrong hands. Because I promise you that he as much more darker things to fear than the British government. You may think I am the villain here Sherlock but at least he would be save with us." He warned, pointing to the…'child' with his umbrella. Mycroft used the silence which followed to calm himself down, righted his tie before he turned to them once again, bidding his goodbyes.

"Sherlock, John." He muttered and focused his gaze on the child once again, before he finally left them. " _Boy._ "

Nobody moved until they heard the door shut behind him. John took a deep breath, it seemed like he had stopped breathing for a second and now his lungs demanded air for his brain to understand what just happened.

He groaned, running a hand over his face and through his blond hair before his eyes focused back on the boy, while Sherlock had turned around to stare of out of the window, either making sure that Mycroft had really left or he just went back to his Mind Palace again.

'Maybe both.' The doctor thought. To be honest he could really use a drink now himself, even Mrs. Hudson's cider would do it.

"Thank you. "

The small voice nearly made him jump.

The boy…Conan Edogawa- no, Shinichi Kudo looked up to them for a second before his gaze fell back to the floor.

Sherlock had turned around like a hawk at the sound, his eyes fixed on the small child before he exchanged a look with John who understood it immediately.

Shinichi swallowed, he could hear the traffic outside while his eyes rested on the well-used violin by the fire place. His heart still hammered loudly in his chest. That was a close call. And if what he knew about Mycroft Holmes was true it wasn't over yet. He groaned, sinking deeper into the chair. Ai was going to kill him for that.

He sighed, when suddenly a pair of grey blue eyes appeared before him, a startled yelp escaped his lips when Sherlock picked him up like the child he appeared to be, and set him into the chair the army doctor had prepared for him.

John watched the child squirming in his friend's hands, trying not to picture the high schooler in his place when Sherlock put him on the client's seat he had prepared, before he let himself finally fall back into his own chair, ignoring the slight headache that began to form right behind his temple.

Sherlock took his usual seat, shooting the boy a calculated look who blinked at them in irritation, before the detective finally spoke.

"You're under my care now," he told the boy, whose feet didn't even touch the ground. He in turn raised a questioning eyebrow.

"In order for this," Sherlock said, gesturing to the three of them, "To work, I do need a little more information on your current…state."

The boy frowned, scanning his friend.

"But that's my case."

John sighed at the similar glow that suddenly appeared in their eyes.

He knew he was going to be both fascinated and exasperated in the upcoming days.

"And now mine too."

They smiled at each other, a smile that marks the start of a great adventure together.

The doctor groaned, pushing himself up from his seat to make them some tea.

This was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is full of little riddles, if you don´t figure them out all by yourself I added a list with the solution in the comment below ^.~  
> It's also more of a filler to show how Shinichi and Sherlock hold contact when the don´t see each other.

**The Mystery of the dancing Phone**

 

His bony fingers reached for his cellphone. John had finally left him after he was brooding in silence over Moriartys visit this morning, to - whatever he had told him he was about to do a minute ago. Sherlocks gaze pierced the apple, still resting on the small coffee table beside John´s chair.

He knew that his friend was worried for him, his carrier and his health and he knew that he probably wasn´t the only one. Cold grey eyes got reflected by the black screen on his phone, they narrowed before the electric device came to live. His fingertips flew over the smooth surface, making a small but familiar dance to open one of his very special contacts.

He let his eyes rest on the foreign number for a second, before he scrolled through their past conversations, his thump moving upwards with each message. Even if he was highly interested in the boy's case, they agreed that they will try to reduce their conversations to a minimum using Kudos phone, not Conans and he was pleased to find out that the little detective had no problem to answer his messages. To call them ciphered would be ridiculous, a child could literally figure out what they were talking about with very little effort, and yet it wasn´t visible in plain sight that they were talking about cases and possible connections to this ominous organization of his.

**H:** _**"At the heels of a black Flower."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 24 March, 2010**

**K:** _**"Not that much of a florist."** _

**Received: 25 March, 2010**

Apparently the "Black Lotus" was a dead end for both of them, but back then it had seemed worth a try. Sherlock hummed, gliding deeper into his seat until his feet reached the edge of John´s chair. His eyes darkened as he looked at the message from two years ago.

Moriarty.

It´s been two years since this man first appeared in his live, nearly killing all of them in the process. It had taken the boy a little longer to reply, it seemed like he had to make some research first only to get to the same result as himself.

**H:** _**"Mori is a bad artist "** _

**Sen** **t:** **1 April, 2010**

**K:** _**"He sells pictures for a high price."** _

**Received: 6. April, 2010**

**K:** _**"Take care."** _

**Received: 6. April, 2010**

But danger seemed to be quite familiar to his little apprentice, since he had managed to get some new information about the organization, a new member apparently.

**K:** _**"A pirate's favorite"** _

**Received: 10 January, 2011**

**H:** _**"The bottle is empty, for now."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 15 January, 2011**

Rum.

A snort left his nose, he would never understand why criminals were so ordinary. Naming themselves after different types of alcohol was much more something that he would expect from a silly crime short story, some papers tended to publish once a month, probably to bore their readers to death. And yet this organization was nagging him in the dark corner of his mind… now that he knew of them and a few of their members, he had a few ideas of what they might have done in England and yet he couldn´t get a hold on them.

He sighed, scrolling further to the more recent messages, a sly smirk appearing on his lips. Well… he could perfectly well control himself as long as his mind had something to work on, but apparently, he couldn´t if life didn´t deliver a dead man on his doorsteps.

**H:** _**"Bored."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 7 March, 2011**

**K:** _**"?"** _

**Received: 7 March, 2011**

**H:** _**"Prohibition."** _

**Sen** **t:** **7 March, 2011**

**K:** _**"Doctors order's?"** _

**Received: 7 March, 2011**

**H:** _**"Pain in the Ass."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 7 March, 2011**

**K:** _**"Try loosing three feet."** _

**Received: 7 March, 2011**

**H:** _**"Midget."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 7 March, 2011**

**K:** _**"Junkie."** _

**Received: 7 March, 2011**

He chuckled, at least the boy had some humor left in his tiny frame. Luckily for both of them – and the rest of the world, like John always told him – the Baskerville case happened, giving his mind some new direction and his brain something to do. Unfortunately the little detective's chemist has never been involved with the organization from Indiana. Too bad.

**H:** _**"A free Indian dog."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 11 March, 2011**

**K:"** _**She has known one but never touched"** _

**Received: 13 March, 2011**

**H:** _**"What a shame."** _

**Sen** **t** **: 13 March, 2011**

It got silent between them after that. If he wouldn´t have kept record on the Japanese News he would have gotten wor- no… confused, so to say. But apparently the boy had enough work to do, this Mori persona solving one case after another. Nothing special, but still too difficult for the police to handle.

'Same old.'

And Kudo, well he probably kept track via John´s blog.

A year passed before the boy had finally some new information about the organization and something interesting at that.

**K:** _**"One eye, but three of them. A woman a man and yet old."** _

**Received: 25 April, 2011**

He took his time to respond this time… he had tried to keep track of the people surrounding the boy - no problem when you get access to the crime reports and witnesses there - since the boy seemed to stumble over a case at least every second day (what would he give for such a luck). To be honest, he wasn´t so sure, but he believed he had a very good idea of whom Kudo was suspecting, and yet his mind had offered him another conclusion back then.

**H:** _**"3+3=1 ?"** _

**Sen** **t** **: 2 May, 2011**

The boy hadn´t answered him to that one yet, he supposed that Kudo still had to confirm his suspicions. It was hard to keep track of the boy sometimes, his Japanese wasn´t good enough yet to follow each article and since Mori was "just" a detective, the police didn´t post his name under each case _they_ solved.

John´s blog made that a lot easier for the little detective. Sherlock swallowed, nibbling on the edge of his leather chair with his finger nail. Of course he would show interest in Moriarty, finally someone who could be big enough to be connected to the organization he tried to hunt down.

**K:** _**"M?"** _

**Received: 1 September, 2011**

While Moriarty was a brilliant mind and crazy enough to work with someone who created a poison with the quality to either kill without a trace or shrink its victim into the seize of a grand schooler, he didn´t have any proof to that theory so far. And something in him was afraid to dig deeper for a possible answer.

Holmes frowned, he could feel the pressure in his chest, knew that his pulse would rise, if even just a little, as the pictures of John flickered back into his mind. His best friend in deadly danger just because of him- not like John didn´t choose this life himself, that guy had tasted danger and death quite to often back in the army- but still… there was this little annoying voice in his head, some human traits (the ones his brother always denied they had) which told him that if something was to happen to John it would be his fault entirely.

As would it be if Moriarty ever got to know about the boy.

**K:** _**"?"** _

**Received: Today**

He frowned when his eyes flickered over the newest message from oversea.

'Annoying little brat.' A grumble escaped his throat.

For sure he had just gotten the notice that the jury found Moriarty "not guilty" and deduced what was about to happen now. Of course, the boy wouldn´t let it go- he was a detective after all and even if he was still young he already had these tendencies to stick his nose into everything.

" _I´m sure he´s worried_ _,_ _Sherlock_ _,_ _"_ John had told him when he had starred at his phone for too long. Of course, he denied that he had been thinking of Kudo, but now that John himself was lucky to be still alive after their last meeting with Moriarty, the nasty feeling inside him offered the idea that it was better to talk to the miniature detective about it, before he directed Moriartys attention on himself all by his own.

'This human interaction tends to get a little too complicated.'

He sighed but still opened a new message while his bony fingers fluttered over the screen to send an answer to Japan. Only before he was able to choose a contact to send the message to, a shrill voice echoed through the dusty room.

"Sherlock?" The detective rolled his eyes, Misses Hudson, of course.

"Hello?"

"Sherlock!"

His eyebrow started to twitch while he searched for the right number in his contacts, but of course the old lovable dragon of "not"-a-housekeeper, wouldn't let go.

"I know you're up there Sherlock Holmes don´t make me come and get you!"

His finger pushed the send button before he scrambled up from his seat with a roar.

"Geez, Misses Hudson! If you ran out of tea I´m sure I have _something_ in this kitchen you can heat up!" But despite the annoyance in his voice he made his way down to her personal rooms, because Sherlock Holmes might be able to chase after the worlds cruelest criminal - but he wasn´t keen to face an angry Misses Hudson.

Little did he know that he, that the great Sherlock Holmes had chosen the wrong number in his haste.

XXX

The phone danced alone and forgotten on the little table, it rattled and vibrated until its owner finally gave some attention to it.

A message, from him and one sentence alone.

**H:** _**"Need to meet soon."** _

**Received: Today**

'What?'

XXX

Only a few seconds later a soft moan filled Missed Hudson's small kitchen, but was drowned in the uproar of press and reporters, a little message easy to oversee.

**I: "** _**?** _ **"**

**Received: Today**

XXX 20 November 2011 XXX

He let himself fall back, head hitting the pillow with a sigh, enjoying the calm of the room he shared with Kudo. At least they got to stay a night longer to rest, before heading back home, after a sleepless night of hunting down a chimera.

'What a stupid case! A nue – for real? Well at least it wasn´t hard ta solve, even if I really wish I could have told her. If it continues like that, Kudo will be married before I´ll be able ta tell her anythin' at all.' Heiji grumbled in his thoughts, directing his gaze to his friend before he frowned.

'Tha mobile again?'

Sitting on his own futon, his friend's thump was slowly running down the display of his phone, his glasses reflecting the cold blue light of the screen.

**K:** _**"M?"** _

**Sen** **t** **: 1 September 2011**

No answer when Moriarty started his play again.

**K:** _**"?"** _

**Sen** **t** **: 20 September 2011**

No answer when they jury didn´t find him guilty.

**K:** _**"?"** _

**Sen** **t** **: Today**

No answer, now that Sherlocks reputation seemed to be ruined.

'What going on?' But a curious voice that had suddenly appeared behind him made him jump from his thoughts.

"Geez Kudo - what´s with ya and that phone today?"

Conan yelped at the two big green eyes staring at him, shutting his phone down in a fast movement before he turned around to his friend.

"Huh? Uh – nothing." He blinked innocently, but the sweat running down his temple told Heiji a different story. The detective from Osaka rose to his full hight again, lifting his eyebrow with a frown.

"Yeah, right," he spit, letting himself fall back down on his futon, still eying his friend with a stern gaze, while Kudo did everything to avoid his eyes.

"Say, ya´re not cheating on Neechan, are ya?"

The grand schooler jumped, eyes wide.

"What? NO!"

Heijis eyes narrowed, he doubted it anyway, but if it wasn´t Neechan who kept him busy with "Kudo's" mobile, there was just one option left.

"So what?" he asked, still hoping that Conan would finally give in, but his friend reacted just like the stubborn kid he looked like.

"That`s none of your business Hattori," he muttered, crossing his arms in front his chest.

"So it´s about them," Heiji deduced in a cold tone, while his friend stayed silent.

"…."

"Kudo-"

"Forget it," he snapped.

Heiji still looked at him stubborn, even if a little hurt.

A tired sighed escaped Conan's lips. "Listen, you´re in enough trouble with everything you know already, leave the rest to my, alight?"

With that the boy turned around to lay down covering himself with his blanked, to signal that this conversation was over now.

Heiji frowned eyes and his eyes rested on the figure beneath the blanked. He took a deep breath, turned the lights off and searched his way to his own futon, but sleep refused to come.

The detective waited, listening to his friend's breathing until it became soft and steady, before he crawled out of bed again.

He didn´t need to search long before his fingers brushed over the cold display of the mobile. The detective nearly squeaked when Conan suddenly moved. His breath hitched in his throat, but Kudo kept breathing calmly, not knowing that he was being watched.

Heiji hesitated one last second before he stole it from his sleeping form.

'Sorry Kudo, but we´re friends after all.'

It took him a while to solve the code to break into the phone, but what really was mushing his brain right now were the messages from "H", written and answered in English. Kudo was talking with this person about the organization. He had also figured out some of their other "codes" but he failed to connect the dots.

Who was this person?

Why was Kudo hiding him or her?

He groaned, rubbing his head in frustration, before suddenly a bright light drowned his vison in black spots. He blinked, clearing his sight, only to find a pouting grade schooler standing beside the light switch. "Shit!"

"Really, Hattori? Really?" he questioned annoyed, tapping his small foot on the floor.

"Darn it Kudo, I´m yar friend!"

"Yeah - because that´s _totally_ believable right now." Conan muttered.

"Well I try ta be! Ya´ve been watchin' this damn phone all day, somethin' is bothering ya and I want ta know what!" Heiji growled, but the frustration couldn´t hide beneath his anger.

Shinichi eyed him for a while, before he gave in with a defeated sigh.

It seemed like they wouldn´t get any sleep tonight as well…

"So, Sherlock Holmes huh? _Th_ _a_ Sherlock Holmes?" Heiji questioned again, after Conan had told him what exactly had happened in London.

"Well… yeah - I mean, I hoped to meet him, since I´m a fan of him when he first started to solve his crimes under his pseudonym, but I never meant for this to happen," his friend explained with a heavy breath while Heiji frowned.

"Let me guess, this pseudonym was "Conan"?" The smirk on the detective's lips widened when Shinichi suddenly was very interested in the floor instead of his eyes, his answer barely more than a grumbled whisper.

"Conan Doyle, yes."

Just like expected, Heiji broke out into laughter, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, Shinichi however only made a face.

"Stop laughing Hattori! You´re no better when it´s about Ellery Queen," he grumbled.

The detective's giggles finally died down, giving his friend a curious look.

"So, Sherlock Holmes figured ya out and protects ya from tha English government, namely his brother, while ya had ta let him in on yar case."

"That sums it up, yeah," the grade schooler confessed with a tired sigh. Silence stretched between them before Shinichi finally looked up, confused about the broad smile stretching over Hattori's lips.

"What's this grin about?"

" I figured ya out before Sherlock Holmes did! Ha!"

"Really Hattori that´s all you have to-", but Conan stopped short, a cold feeling crawling up his spine.

"'You felt that?" he whispered, the temperature between seemed to drop.

"Yes," Heiji answered, already facing the window front of their room.

"We´re being watched."

XXX

He was sitting on the floor in the lab of St. Bart's, waiting for John to return from his brother - because no doubt he was there now, throwing Mycroft a tantrum, not knowing what was really going on. A bitter taste stole itself on his lips. He knew it wasn´t fair to do that to John, but if he wanted people to fall for his plan, he didn´t have a choice.

Suddenly, a lonely hushed moan echoed through the empty halls.

With a swift move he pulled his mobile from the pocket of his coat.

A message.

From _her._

**I: "** _**Do you keep a list of dead people** _ _**?** _ _**"** _

**Received: Today**

His eyes narrowed in a frown.

'What?'

But Sherlock didn´t have to wait long until another lustful moan escaped his phone.

**I** **'ll** **sen** **d** **you a picture.**

**Received: Today**

An eyebrow rose above cold grey eyes, before his finger searched the button to download the picture.

A familiar young face - all red, eyes and mouth wide open - appeared on the screen together with a dark skinned high schooler with a similar expression, whose nose was spluttering blood like a fountain.

He blinked. The great Sherlock Holmes needed a second to proceed what had happened, before a laugh barked through the empty lab. His fingers typed a quick reply, a smirk still resting on his lips.

**H: "** _**You stole their virginity! – And my phone."** _

**Sen** **t:** **Today**

The answer came quick.

**I:** _**"Might have 3"** _

**Received: Today**

His phone softly moaned again, when a new message appeared on his screen.

**I: "** _**But to my defense** _ _**,** _ _**I wasn´t even naked** _ _**-** _ _**not completely, at least doing one of the two."** _

**Received: Today**

The smile resting on his lips however wavered soon, darkness filled his eyes while he typed his answer.

**H:** _**"If you´re already there… keep an eye on him."** _

**Sen** **t** **: Today**

**I:** _**"Do it yourself."** _

**Received: Today**

"Stubborn woman," the detective cursed.

**H:** _**"Can´t"** _

**Sen** **t** **: Today**

**I:** _**"?"** _

**Received: Today**

He hesitated a second, before he sent his reply.

**H:** _**"Putting myself on that list."** _

**Sen** **t** **: Today**

One last soft moan filled the lab.

**I:** _**"I´ll send you flowers."** _

**Received: Today**

The ghost of a smile crossed his lips, before he put his mobile back into his pocket to exchange it with a small black ball - so inconspicuous and yet so useful - which he started throwing against the front of the counter with a bounce.

Waiting for his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!
> 
> Not the dancing man but the dancing phone this time ^.~
> 
> I'm sorry for the wait, and a big thanks to Tobina for correcting this little OS.
> 
> I´m sorry about all the dates and such, but it was necessary in order to get from A to B.
> 
> The story is kind of a filler to be honest, to move on with the plot and the way Sherlock treats Conan - next one will be a meeting on a graveyard, with an old friend again. In order to get Conan in the Sherlock verse and the other way around, I made Conan Doyle a false identity for Sherlock in his younger years, so I thought that Ellery Queen has to be real as well. I hope you could decipher their small messages ^^
> 
> If not here is a little list what they`re talking about ;)
> 
> H: "At the heels of a black Flower."
> 
> K: "Not that much of a florist."
> 
> \- Holmes Case of the Black Lotus, he wanted to know if it might be related to Shinichi's organisation
> 
> H: "Mori is a bad artist "
> 
> K: "He sells pictures for a high price."
> 
> K: "Take care."
> 
> \- The meaning here is Mory-art-y ^^, Got it? And of course Shinichi immediatly saw that he's rather dangerous.
> 
> K: "A pirate's favorite"
> 
> H: "The bottle is empty, for now."
> 
> \- This time it´s Shinichi's turn, asking Holmes about "Rum"
> 
> Sherlock texting him that he's bored is right before the Case of Baskaville as you can see:
> 
> H: "A free Indian dog."
> 
> K:" She has known one but never touched"
> 
> H: "What a shame."
> 
> \- The company Holmes investigated was in Liberty indiana and called HOUND, of course he wanted to know if Haibara knew about their experiments
> 
> K: "One eye, but three of them. A woman a man and yet old."
> 
> H: "3+3=1 ?"
> 
> \- Talking about Rum again, his appearances so to say- Holmes considered that it also could be three difrrent persons they're searching for, called one Name
> 
> And of Course Shinichi was worried about Sherlock right before the Moriarty case got wild and the Chapter end's with Sherlock playing with the ball he later used to supress his pulse to fool John.
> 
> I hope it`s all clear now ;)
> 
> I would love to hear your option again!
> 
> Shelling~

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my dear readers!
> 
> First of all thanks for finishing this chapter. I wanted to do something like that for quite some time now and I do hope you like it! I´ve planned some more… like Shinichi meeting Sherlock… or trying to find a place to change back or something like that. (Please feel free to suggest some wishes, ideas for future OS)
> 
> You may have already guessed that the Conan timeline is his stay in London with Ran and Mori (of course I needed to change some things since Sherlock is a living person in this slight AU).
> 
> A big big biiig "Thank you" to my Beta WinchesterOf221B, who did an amazing job with this, since I am not a native.
> 
> I would love to hear your opinion in a little comment !
> 
> See you,
> 
> Shelling ~


End file.
